The Funeral For Those That Did Not Die
by anyadoll
Summary: *post finale*


A Funeral for Those That Did Not Die

A Funeral for Those That Did Not Die

It hurt.

The feeling of betrayal felt so deeply rooted within her heart and mind that she felt at moments that she could not breathe. It ate away at her, not knowing what she could have done to stop this. Ever since that day she'd tried to remain strong for the team, feeling that if she should breakdown over the examination table, the pseudo family she'd built herself would crumble with her. It was bad already as it was. The air was always tense, electrified with fear and grief. One of their own. One of their own had betrayed them.

And it would never be okay again.

Brennan retreated, desperately trying to be the one to keep the fragile hearts of her family from breaking. She'd stretched herself to the limits, so exhausted from keeping it together that she'd overlook small details, jump at the slightest sound, nerves so on edge she nearly fell from a ladder changing a light bulb.

Angela cried. Cried so hard at times that she had to leave, not stepping foot in the lab for days afterwards. Hodgins was quietly angry, snapping the rubber band on his wrist as he tried to console his fiancé, clenching his fists darkly, before releasing them with a grim hopelessness Brennan saw flit across his features. As if he was upset with himself for thinking he hated the brilliant young doctor.

Cam had become a stressed, disheveled shadow figure as well. She didn't like to come out of her office and talk like they used to; no smiles, no games, no jokes, no nicknames. The day the stack of applications for interning grad students came was the first time she saw Cam cry…a sight that scared Brennan more than she thought it ever would.

It had been a month. The days she woke from dreams that things were normal, and that the betrayal had been a dark twist in a nightmare left her feeling sorely alone. No more crazy experiments of frozen pigs flying through wood chippers, mini explosions, dummies dropped ten stories high and the general desecration of the lab by any odd idea that warranted a hypothesis. The King of the Lab was gone now, and in his place was a court of disappointed followers.

Brennan had left work early, something she never did—something that was becoming all too frequent. Bogged down and weighted and lifeless, she emerged from her bath, not soothed by the candles she loved or the copious amount of red wine she'd been drinking. In a suspended motion she changed, slipping on black yoga pants and a delicate camisole Angela had purchased from Italy for her. She was dearly happy her friend had finally decided to leave with Hodgins for Spain. It would be good for both of them, and Brennan had strongly encouraged it. It also took the pressure off of her, juggling her emotions at the lab, waiting for the breakdown; Angela's consistent and random outbursts were so sudden that Brennan nearly lost it merely a week ago.

So caught up, she didn't hear the knocks on the door. Nor it opening, or the familiar footfalls of the final teammate as she stared blindly at a framed photo: the one of them celebrating Zack's doctorate and Cam's agreement for him to stay. Little pieces, little memories that tore holes in all of them. Her damp hair chilled her skin, goose bumps prickled as she shivered. Water dripped trails down her skin, suddenly mixing with tears. She couldn't breathe again. Her lungs hurt, and her knees gave as her body slackened from its roller coaster. This was the breakdown.

She barely registered Booth holding her. Her sobs echoed throughout her apartment, releasing everything she'd felt, bottled inside so no one would see her fall to pieces. So many ghosts. So much loss.

Brennan held on, her nails digging harshly into his shoulder and back. Holding on for dear life. The month they'd been through had been her hell on Earth. She saw visions of Booth's death, a real one, a fake one, all the possibilities that haunted her. Two weeks of bitter silence, suspended in time without the one person that brought life to her and the lab. She knew she had no reason to be angry with him still, but she was. She trusted him, but she trusted him to trust her.

He brushed her damp hair with his fingers, gently settling them down to the floor. He understood. He knew. He'd died and come back, literally and figuratively, and he'd hurt her more than he could ever heal. And then the icing had been Zack's criminal disposition. She couldn't bounce back, deal, compartmentalize, and understand that quickly. He'd seen her at the lab—not distant, but attempting to compensate for the team by acting as normal as possible. And this was the end result. An emotional sacrifice…and she was paying for it.

She was shaking like she'd run through a blizzard, tired and weak. She was the first to speak, a small whisper of a phrase that burned him to the core.

"Our center is broken."

He felt sick inside. He rubbed her arm with his hand, knowing she wasn't cold but needing the comfort as well. "How do we fix it?" he asked aloud, long moments later.

She tensed. "I don't think we can."

He tried to offer the smallest wisp of a smile, but it failed. "Do you think you can trust me again Temperance?" he voiced the one question that had plagued him for weeks. Brennan felt his fear and sorrow swimming around them like a fog.

She shuddered, curling herself into him more. "It's not a question of me trusting you Booth. I want to know that I can trust you to trust _me_…that's why I was so upset. I can't do this by myself. I can't balance everyone's lives, hoping that none of the pieces fall. If they fall, I fall," she gasped out.

"I'll be here to catch you though…that's the beauty of us," he whispered firmly. He pulled back from her, holding her shoulders to look in her eyes. "People die in different ways Bones. You know that more than anyone. Sometimes…sometimes they come back…like your father, like Russ…"

"Like you," she added quietly. His smile grew a little. It was her forgiving him.

"Yeah, Bones, like me. Sometimes they do leave, and there is no way of getting them back. Zack chose his fate…he knew what he was getting into. He just…he just didn't know how much it would kill the ones he loved."

Tears still cascaded down her cheeks, silent, but there. "You'll forgive Zack someday. You're a forgiving person; you let your father back in. You let me in, and you didn't have to do that Temperance."

Her life had been a steady road of funerals for people that had never died. Father, brother, Booth, and now Zack.

"Grief has a lot of stages," she said slowly. He nodded. "I just hope we all make it."

"You will. People grieve at their own pace in their own way. It won't be normal for a long time…if ever."

"I want our center Booth. I want it back so bad," Brennan cried again. He released her shoulders, holding her face instead, leaning his forehead against hers. The tears that trailed down her face clung to his at points where they touched; their breaths mingled as she tried to force herself to calm down, but losing it over and over again. "I trust you Booth…I trust you to keep me standing. I trust you to fix us. I want you to fix us…" she trailed off, her voice somewhere between desperate and knowing and hopeful.

He had no words left for her. She knew everything he would say. The center, _their _center, was broken. They needed to be fixed. Her and him. They were the "us" she wanted back so badly.

He tilted his head ever so slightly, kissing the corner of her mouth and cheek at once. She sucked air in suddenly, eyes half closed. She turned so that his lips brushed hers instead of her cheek. Still holding her face, he kissed away the tears that still fell steadily, salty and sad. Her hands rested limply on his neck, her fingers drawing lazy delicate patterns on his skin. He pulled back, hoping they were on the same level, the same page. Her eyes settled on his; they would be okay, they knew, because they were ready for this. She brought his lips down to hers then, wanting to confirm it and commit to memory. They stayed that way, long after her tears had stopped and the sun had faded into the darkness. Neither wanting to be alone, both fixing what was broken for so long:

Two hearts and the center that would hold them.


End file.
